


Under Your Skin

by Kenkanwrite



Category: Among Us - Fandom
Genre: Aphrodesiacs, Breeding, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Degradation, Implied Cannibalism, Incapacitation, Kidnapping, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Cuddling, Oviposition, Praise Kink, Somnophilia, Stockholm Syndrome, Tentacles, Trans Male Character, dubcon, imposters are symbiotic parasites, non-con, uuuh technical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28565991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenkanwrite/pseuds/Kenkanwrite
Summary: It's been drifting through space for a long time – longer than it can remember. Decades, centuries, eons; time is meaningless in this void. It may have wished for an end, once. Now it doesn't wish at all, doesn't even think, really. Just drifts. Sleep and waking are no different. It cannot remember what it is, where it was before, its purpose. Everything is dark. Quiet. It drifts...After integrating with one of the crewmembers, the imposter finds itself...infatuated with a certain crewmate.Please heed the tags, this fic is dark and doesn't really get lighter. Very much an excuse to write horrid self-indulgent alien porn.
Relationships: imposter/crewmate - Relationship
Comments: 7
Kudos: 145





	1. Chapter 1

_It's been drifting through space for a long time – longer than it can remember. Decades, centuries, eons; time is meaningless in this void. It may have wished for an end, once. Now it doesn't wish at all, doesn't even think, really. Just drifts. Sleep and waking are no different. It cannot remember what it is, where it was before, its purpose. Everything is dark. Quiet. It drifts._

Yellow is emptying the trash in storage when White's voice comes over the P.A. system: Something's collided with the hull. Not twenty minutes later the alarms begin to blare and the lights cut out. The emergency's come on a few seconds after, but Yellow still finds himself rattled. Lights out after a hull collision can't be good. He quickly shuts the hatch to the trash chute and stands. They've all been instructed to meet in the cafeteria in the event of an emergency, so he heads as quickly as he can towards the hall. The emergency lighting isn't very good, and he's forced to slowly shuffle his way through the room after he trips not once, but twice over stray boxes and cords.  


A sound to his left has him distracted and tripping for a third time. He goes down hard and curses, cradling his knee. He's sure he'll be limping for a couple of days and sporting a nasty bruise for even longer.  


As he goes to stand someone touches his shoulder and he almost screams. He scrambles to his feet and turns to see Blue standing there, watching him silently.

_Everything burns. The creature – its new host – tears his helmet off to claw at its skin as it tries to scream. It knows that this would not be to its benefit, and so renders them both mute. The pain is indescribable, but it pushes through, grinding the body's teeth together and curling in on itself. It worries that achieving symbiosis will not be possible; perhaps these creatures are not compatible with its Self.  
_

_Ah, but then the pain begins to ebb, the fire beneath its skin fades away to dull embers and it takes a deep, shaky breath. It stretches slowly, cautiously, testing each of its new limbs one by one. There is a faint presence in the back of its mind – the host is still alive, though weak and silent. Unusual, but his memories have integrated properly and it should have no trouble blending to achieve its goal.  
_

_Its goal...which it still has not been able to remember.  
_

_A voice echoes somewhere out in the hall, and its stomach lets out a low growl. Integration had taken a lot of energy. The goal can wait; now, it needs to feed._

Yellow watches Blue warily. They've always gotten along, better than Yellow does with most of the others on the ship, but the way the other man is watching him now...it makes his skin crawl. There's an unnatural stillness about him that remind Yellow of a tiger waiting to pounce. Blue has only ever been kind to him, only been a friend, but...he takes a slow step towards the hall where he knows the others will be gathering.  


“Blue? Are you...okay,” he asks, struggling to be heard over the screech of the sirens.  


The other man's helmet tilts, emergency lights flickering eerily over the visor. He raises one hand, outstretched, and Yellow thinks he hears the other man saying something but the sirens are just so goddamn loud and –  


Footsteps thunder up the hall leading to Navigation and he turns to see Red and Cyan rushing towards him. They push passed without a word to either him or Blue, before he can ask if they know what's happening and if everyone's alright. He spares Blue one last glance before he hurries after them down the hall. He hears another set of footsteps following him closely and tries to ignore the shivers that roll up and down his spine.  


As Red and Cyan come to a halt at the entrance of the cafeteria Yellow skids to a stop behind them, almost crashing into his two shorter crew-mates. Off to the far right, one of the cafeteria tables is covered in gore. Blood drips slowly from the table and chairs. Some of it has even been splattered along the walls. Yellow stumbles back, tripping over himself and swallowing hard to keep the bile down. He can see the tatters of a jumpsuit – Lime's jumpsuit, his helmet's screen informs him – mixed into the mess.  


The others have already gathered. Most of them are paired up, or in small groups. White, Black, and Purple are huddled together, whispering amongst themselves. Brown is leaning into Pink's chest, their view screen protected from the horrid sight before them. Green and Orange are pressed shoulder to shoulder, one occasionally gesturing towards the body or others gathered around. Blue, hovering close to his back, is the only one who seems unaffected. When Yellow glances back at him, he is staring directly at the mess on the table, unflinching. It's eerie.  


Black and White, their two commanders, have stepped further into the room and are calling for everyone's attention. Yellow does his best to pay attention and ignore the cold air radiating from the man behind him.

He's in electrical the next day, alone despite the commanders' warnings. He hadn't been able to find someone to pair up with for his daily tasks – well, it was more that he'd overslept (again) and had been an hour behind everyone else. It wasn't a rare occurrence with him, and he'd been scolded over it plenty, but it seemed everyone was content to let him be on his own as punishment this time.  


Punishment it is, too; he hasn't been able to get the sight of Lime's body out of his head since yesterday. He'd only gotten a couple hours sleep last night, and it's all he can do now to bury himself in his work and stay awake and distracted.  


When the door opens, he hardly registers the noise. He's elbow deep in panel seven searching irately for the other half of the red wire he'd dropped a few moments earlier. His mind is so sleep-deprived and preoccupied with his task he doesn't think to acknowledge the other's presence – or be concerned by it. That is, until he finds his helmet being slammed into the wall with such force the visual panel cracks. Error messages flash across the screen, informing him of the damage and other risks that will follow. He's panicking too hard to read them, vision blurring as his heart begins to race and his breathing quickens.  


Images of the mess in the cafeteria yesterday flood his mind again. Blood, thick and red, dripping from the walls, the table, creeping across the floor, spirits shrouded in crimson. Shreds of Lime's jumpsuit, dyed forest green by the gore. No part of their body recognizable; nothing to send back to their family. Nothing but memories and heartache.  


He doesn't want that for himself. His post here is only supposed to be nine months, he's halfway through. He wants to see his family, his friends, his home world. So he begins to struggle, kicking and thrashing as hard as he can in the hopes of throwing his attacker off.  


The effort only gets his helmet slammed into the wall again, and this time a chunk of glass flies from the screen. The display still flashes broken messages despite the damage, still trying desperately to fulfill its purpose.  


Dazed, he sways, his arm stuck halfway into the panel the only thing that keeps him standing.  


He half turns, blood running cold when he catches a glimpse of a blue jumpsuit. The other man quickly crowds against him, shoving him back into the wall, just as strong as his large stature would imply. Yellow whimpers, pushing uselessly against his assailant. He'd known something was wrong yesterday in storage. All he can think of is the other man hovering over him silently, watching. He should have said something, warned someone. There hadn't been any proof, though, and moreover, Blue is – was – his friend.  


Was. Whoever this is, it isn't Blue, can't be. Not the one he knew, at least.  


The back of his jumpsuit being torn open pulls him from his spiraling thoughts, and his struggles begin anew. He doesn't want to die, not like Lime, won't accept it. Can't – if he does, where will that leave him?  


Blue growls, agitated. The sound fills the room like a pack of snarling dogs. It sends shivers down Yellow's spine. For a split second the weight against his back disappears and he hears a click, followed by a low hiss. Blue is back before he can turn around and see what's happened, but he realizes shortly after when teeth, razor-sharp, sink into the junction of his neck and shoulder. The wound throbs, heat creeping from the site and enveloping his body. Everything is warm, all the way down to his bones, and suddenly he's having a hard time remembering why he was so afraid. The haze of heart-pounding panic that had been filling his mind begins to dissipate.  


His legs give out. Blue catches him and lifts him, bridal style, into his chest. Yellow looks up and, through blurry and rapidly fading vision, sees that Blue's eyes are different. The sclera and iris have merged into a solid sea of yellow. They glow faintly in the dimly lit room. Yellow shies away as the other leans in close and buries his face in the crook of Yellow's neck. He's uncomfortable but can't bring himself to be too worried by it. He knows he should be, but instead he's just sort of curious – and sleepy.  
His eyes drift shut as Blue carries him towards the vent in the corner of the room.

_It knows as soon as it sees the creature – human – Yellow! – in storage, that this is its goal. The host stirs at the sight and memories flash through their mind; snippets of conversation, private moments, sly touches, yearning. The host wants this one, has been wanting this one – desire nestled deep in its chest, so intense it almost makes its heart ache. This has to be what it was searching for, there can be nothing else.  
_

_When he falls, hard, and curses, Blue rushes to his side, concerned and eager to help its mate. To claim its mate. But when Yellow turns and sees it he retreats, afraid, the scent coming off him in waves. The rejection pierces its heart – our heart, the host seems to whisper – like a lance.  
_

_It tries to speak, to reassure and comfort, but others arrive and pull its beloved away, down the hall and towards the site of its first meal. It follows closely, eyes never leaving Yellow's back. It begins to formulate a plan. It will have to wait until they're alone again so as not to arouse suspicion, but..._

When he first wakes up, for a brief moment Yellow thinks he's back in his bunk. He doesn't remember getting here; his head is swimming. The events of the last two days are fuzzy – a nightmare, maybe? His helmet is gone and he's lying on something soft...his bed? He's not sure, it's so dark. When he tries to move he suddenly registers the presence of someone – Blue – in bed behind him. There's an arm wrapped around his chest, a hand tight on his hip, and something –  


A high whine escapes his throat. Something is moving inside of him, writhing. Blue's hips rock gently against his own and low grunts and growls fill his ears. His breath hitches as he feels the whisper of teeth against nape of his neck. Blue chuckles and increases the speed of his thrusts. Yellow feels his cock – if one could even call it that, it seems more like some kind of tentacle – throb inside of him. It's thick, almost stretching him past his limit, the steady pace setting a traitorously pleasant burn low in the pit of his stomach. The appendage twists and twitches inside his cunt, searching.  


“Awake, finally, pet,” Blue pants, nuzzling closer and nipping at Yellow excitedly. “Good, good boy.”  


Yellow shivers at the phrase “good boy”. He's soaking wet, though a distant part of his mind screams that he should be horrified, disgusted. He should be trying to escape, throw the other man off and run. Instead, the fire racing beneath his skin pushes him back against the other's body. He reaches back and his fingers sink into dark hair, pulling, bringing the other near his throat again. He relishes the sensation of Blue marking him, nipping, licking and suckling his way over every inch of skin he can reach. Yellow loses himself in the obscenity, focusing on the wet sounds of Blue slamming into him over and over again. The hand gripping his hip slides lower to play with his clit and the words “thank you” slip from his lips before he can stop himself. His face reddens with humiliation and shame, but Blue only laughs again and rewards him by licking a wet strip up the side of his neck.  


“So, so good. Can't wait to fill you up.”  


A low moan escapes him. He's excited and hates himself for it – but he's dying for more stimulation, more something. His body is aching, heat thrumming just below his skin and burning away any coherent thoughts. He wants it to stop but somehow knows he needs Blue to make that happen.  


Blue hilts himself inside with one final, drawn out groan. His cock seems to have found its mark, just past his cervix. It still writhes gently within him, but has gone mostly still now. For a moment the room is quiet, save for the heavy sounds of their breathing. Then the bedding begins to rustle as Blue shifts their position, rolling Yellow onto his stomach and pulling him up until he's crouched on all fours. He somehow manages to stay inside the whole time and practically purrs with satisfaction when he's arranged them both to his liking.  


“Ready?”  


Yellow doesn't actually have time to ask, _“For what?”_ before he feels something pressing at his entrance. He whines and pulls at the bed sheets, but Blue's grip on his hips keeps him firmly in place. He can't bring himself to fight back; something about this feels...right. Like he might be able to think straight when it's all done.  


The pressure at his entrance builds slowly and Blue pants above him, hands massaging comforting circles into Yellow's skin. He gasps and groans wordlessly, eyes squeezing shut and muscles tensing as he cums. Something smooth and round enters him, traveling quickly until it comes to rest in his womb. A rush of thick fluid follows and he feels his stomach stretch to accommodate everything. Blue begins to bite at his neck again and chatters senseless gratified noise at him. It seems like some sort of language, far harsher than anything humans could produce, all dissonant humming, hissing, and clicks. Alien.  


Blue deposits two more – what? Eggs? – inside of him. When he's finished he pulls out and collapses onto his side with a contented sigh, gathering Yellow close to himself and gently caressing his now slightly-distended stomach. Rumbling emanates from his chest, that same purr from earlier.  


Yellow hates the comfort he takes from it. He slips from consciousness moments later, body and mind utterly exhausted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left kudos, comments, bookmarked or just checked out the story! I haven't posted any writing in a long time so it's nice to return to positive feedback :}  
> 

The second time he awakens, Yellow finds himself alone. He sits up slowly, hips and head aching, and tries to get his bearings. The fog he'd felt before is gone and he's left with knife-like clarity that leaves him disgusted with himself. Just thinking about the way he'd behaved brings a humiliated flush to his face. There must have been some sort of venom in the imposter's bite, he reasons. It would explain the burning sensation he'd felt, and the cotton fluff that had filled his mind. There's no way he would have acted in such a manner otherwise.  


He tries to put it out of his mind. He needs to get his bearings, think of some kind of plan. If he can escape then he can warn the others about Blue. And maybe they can help him with the... _things_ (he has a sinking suspicion that they're eggs, but still can't bring himself to seriously consider the possibility) inside of him. He touches his stomach and is immediately repulsed by the way it swells slightly outwards.  


It's too much to think about. He focuses instead on trying to work out where he's being kept.  


The room around him is pitch black, not a hint of light anywhere he turns, but it's not quiet. He can hear all the usual sounds of the ship, humming, clanking, hissing and beeping, now amplified and echoing. He cautiously feels his way towards the edge of his bed and is surprised to find himself mere inches from the floor. Metal, warm and smooth, stretches as far as he can reach. It seems the imposter has made itself a nest here. Wherever here is.  


Wherever it is, it's hot. His jumpsuit is gone, Sol knows what Blue did with it, but he's still sweating despite his nudity. When he tries to stand he knocks his head against the ceiling not even halfway up. The _”clang!”_ echoes all around and then away. He curses and falls to his knees, cradling his pounding head. He remembers, suddenly, being carried towards the vent system. That must be where Blue is keeping him now.  


He slowly crawls from the nest, moving forward until he meets the wall. From there he follows it around in a sort of squat “T” shape until he finds himself at the nest again. He seems to be in a large intersection between three of the ventilation shafts. There isn't light coming from any direction, nor does he hear anything distinct. He can't tell what part of the ship he's in. Polus is huge; he could crawl through the vents for days and never find his way out of the darkness.  


Blue would probably find him before he got far, anyway, and who knew how he would react. His behavior has been erratic, confusing. Aggressive, rough, but not enough to do any lasting damage. Like maybe he doesn't want to _really_ hurt him. Yellow's best chance for survival seems to be going along with what he wants – but what does he want? And what will happen to the – the _eggs_ inside of him? Will they hatch? Maybe they're nothing and will just dissolve?  


Or maybe they'll burst from his stomach like in those old Earth horror films–  


Something in the distance rattles. He scurries back into the nest, pressing himself flush against the wall. The rattling continues for a few more minutes, then all is quiet. Slowly his ears pick up a rhythmic thumping, then the sound of fabric rustling. It grows steadily closer.  


Panic mounting, Yellow grasps at the random scraps of cloth around him, bunching some of them together on his lap to cover himself. It doesn't make him feel much safer, but alone in the dark he'll take what he can get.  


It doesn't take long for Blue to reach him. He knows not only because of the sound, but because when he arrives at the mouth of one of the shafts his eyes are glowing again. It's terrifying and a comfort all the same. He absently wonders which is worse: To be trapped alone in the dark forever, or trapped in the dark with a monster wearing the face of a former friend.  


Blue drops something with a heavy thud and crosses the small space with inhuman speed. Yellow flinches when he suddenly finds glowing eyes in his face, studying him closely, accompanied by a razor-toothed grin.  


“Yellow,” it breathes, leaning in to rub its face against the soft skin of his neck. He's surprised that it doesn't try to bite him again. “Awake – good. Brought food.”  


It pushes the words out with concentrated effort, like it's just now learning how to speak. Its voice is rough, hoarse, like it's talking around a throat full of gravel. It sounds nothing like the old Blue. He shudders when it begins to croon again in its own language, pressing close to him, pushing and pulling at the meager cloth he's covered himself with until he's bare again. Hands run softly over his skin, exploring almost curiously. They stop briefly at his nipples, though he can't really feel it, then slide lower to trace over the raised skin of his scars.  


The gentle attention is almost...nice. They aren't allowed to fraternize with fellow crew mates while on assignment, and while he doesn't judge others for breaking those rules, he's never done it himself. He's always found it hard to have flings anyway. Hard to be close to people like that. Especially coworkers, whom he'd have to see all the time afterwards.  


Being alone for months at time is hard, though, and his body betrays him and rises into the touch. Blue hums appreciatively and sits up to press their lips together. The kiss is clumsy and forceful, but when Yellow feels the other man's tongue swiping along his lips he turns his head away.  


“Please, I – I don't,” he stutters, terrified both at the thought of angering the creature and by allowing it to have its way with him again.  


Blue makes a soft sound of disappointment but continues on relatively undeterred, instead moving his attention elsewhere. His hands slide lower to grasp Yellow's waist and pull him into the larger man's lap. He flinches and, when he tries to twist and squirm away again, Blue growls and bites his collarbone hard enough to draw blood. He gasps sharply and whimpers at the sudden pain, eyes watering.  


“Be good,” it huffs, lathing its tongue over the wound. It burns, though not quite as badly as yesterday. Yellow feels his muscles begin to relax within thirty seconds. He must have been right about the venom. Warmth spreads through his body like honey. Every little sensation feels amplified, from the rough material of Blue's jumpsuit between his thighs to the wet slide of his tongue against the fresh wound on his chest. One of Blue's hands has returned to tracing the old scars on his chest while the other drags its nails across his ass.  


He sinks into the touch and allows himself to bask in the pleasure, lets his mind wander as Blue continues to fondle him. He absently wonders if the others are looking for him or if they've just assumed him dead.  


Probably the latter. He supposes it's better this way – _for them, at least_ – given what Blue's already shown himself capable of. A rescue mission, if they could even find him in the Minotaur-worthy labyrinth of the vents, would surely be doomed. Here alone, Yellow at least doesn't seem to be in any immediate _physical_ danger. Beyond a few bites and bruises, that is. And he might not even mind the bites if they weren't breaking the skin...  


A thumb brushes along his lower lip and suddenly all of his attention is drawn to the sensation. It rests there a moment before pressing forward insistently, and he opens his mouth without much thought. It slides in and rubs small circles over the soft, flat plane of his tongue. It feels nice. He wraps his lips appreciatively around the digit and begins to suck. Blue lets out a soft, surprised _”oh!”_. It's gratifying, sends a pleased shiver down his spine. He almost whines when his mouth is suddenly empty.  


He's not left wanting for long as Blue's index and middle fingers replace his thumb. They carry a vague tang of copper and iron; blood. The taste should make his stomach turn and have him choking up bile – but he doesn't. He doesn't really even care, too focused on drawing more of those appreciative sounds from Blue.  


His hands are big, he realizes as the fingers in his mouth reach almost into his throat before retreating. Some distant part of his mind whispers at him to bite them, payback for the earlier slights, but he knows it's a bad idea, and beside, this...isn't so bad. He's had fantasies that go a _little_ something like this. If he doesn't let himself think too hard, he can almost pretend he's dreaming.  


Blue is practically finger-fucking his mouth at this point. Though his jumpsuit is keeping it constrained, he can feel his cock writhing up against him, searching for entry. He's panting, forehead flush with Yellow's as he ruts into the smaller man's groin in time with his fingers. The intrusion at the back of his throat eventually has him gagging, and only then does Blue finally pull his hand away. It's immediately replaced by his lips, and this time Yellow doesn't turn away when his tongue, impossibly long and oddly cool, invades his mouth.  


Happy rumbles emanate from its chest now that it's finally gotten what it wants. The fingers that were previously in his mouth, now slick with his own saliva, enter him suddenly and he gasps and clenches around the digits. Blue sits back and chuckles, eyes roaming hungrily over his face as its fingers slide in and out. Yellow rolls his hips in tight circles and falls forward to push his face into Blue's neck.  


He wants – needs – more. He whines and nips at whatever skin he can get his teeth on. There's not enough, Blue's stupid jumpsuit is still on, and it really doesn't seem fair now that he's the only one naked. One of his hands drops between them to palm him through his suit while the other fumbles in the darkness for its zipper.  


Blue laughs and grabs his wrist, pulls his hand away and holds it firmly at his side. Yellow whines again and digs his teeth in harder. He gets a bite in return this time, the alien's tongue sliding wetly over his fluttering pulse. It's different from those previous, gentler, the teeth not quite breaking the skin. Playful, like a private joke between the two of them. His breath catches, then he moans, cumming so hard his vision goes white for a few ecstatic seconds. He doesn't try to move from where he's slumped into Blue's chest, muscles limp with post-orgasm bliss. Blue continues to play with him for a while longer until he begins to squirm and mumble objections at the borderline-painful over stimulation.  


As he waits for his body to calm down he feels himself drifting into sleep. He doesn't move or protest as Blue lays down and curls around him. He still has his jumpsuit on and some of the pouches and zippers scratch and dig into him. Yellow, again, wishes he would take it off, finds himself craving the heat of skin to skin contact. It's nice enough enough to have someone holding him, though, and he settles back into it.  


A tiny, niggling part of his mind asks how he can take comfort in the touch of a monster. It forces him to wonder what anyone would say if they could see him.  


He pushes it down, locks it into the far recesses of his mind, and falls into the sweet, dark oblivion of sleep instead.

*******

He's alone in the nest when he wakes up later, but Blue isn't far. He can tell by the faint glow he sees coming from his left. That, and the nauseating, viscerally wet sounds of meat being torn apart, bones snapping and splintering and someone –  


Bile rushes up his throat and it's all he can do to throw himself from the nest before he vomits. He doesn't think he's eaten in a couple of days now. It's all acid and it burns. Suddenly all he can think of is Blue coming back earlier, dropping something heavy in the dark and announcing that he “brought food”. He'd sounded proud of himself. For the first time during this entire ordeal he feels tears welling in his eyes. He curls in on himself and begins to sob, shaking with the force of it.  


A wet hand touches his back and he flinches away from it, bringing his arms up over his head. When it happens again he lashes out angrily. It's gratifying, when he hears Blue grunt in surprise. He takes the opportunity to scramble away, feeling around desperately for one of the exits. His hand lands in a puddle – blood, it has to be – and he hardly has time to be horrified before Blue's hand is clamping around his ankle and dragging him back.  


He starts to scream but is cut off almost immediately, another hand grabbing his face in a vice-like grip. It hurts. He tries to thrash, but Blue is so much bigger and simply wraps his body around Yellow's and forces him to be still.  


All of his strength leaves him at once, like a marionette whose strings have just been cut. His heart is still hammering, tears still streaming down his face, but his limbs feel like lead. The stress of the last few days, the lack of food and the emotional and physical trauma; all have left him weak. He's used up the last of his energy.  


Neither of them moves or speaks for a few minutes. The small space is filled with the sounds of their panting and Yellow's muffled crying. Blue squeezes his face once, hard, then lets go. He knows it's a warning and heeds it, doesn't try to scream again. He doesn't have it in him. It's hand drifts lower, stroking up and down his side gently. Soothing. It's a sweet gesture, taunting him with its intimacy, and he shudders.  


“Please – please just let me – let me go,” he hiccups. “ _Please._ I don't understand why you – why you're doing this.”  


Blue's hand pauses in its route up his flank. He makes a noise that sounds almost...hurt? Yellow can't help but laugh when he hears it. He sounds hysterical through his tears – he _is_ hysterical, he realizes. Blue tries to hush him, resuming his vain attempt at delivering physical comfort. When it becomes obvious that this isn't going to work, he clears his throat and nestles his head close to Yellow's.  


“You...” it begins, pausing to cough and clear its throat again before trying to continue. “You're mine. You...humans...call it as, love?”  


This confession – question? He doesn't think Blue even really knows what it's talking about – does nothing to quell Yellow's hysteria – quite the opposite, in fact. He's laughing so hard now he thinks he might throw up. He's hardly even making any sound, just wheezing like a used up squeaky toy.  


_In love with him?_ This _creature_ , the monster that killed his friends, attacked him, _raped_ him, and is now keeping him hostage thinks it's – _in love with him?_ It's ridiculous. He feels like he's died and gone to hell. Maybe he has, maybe the imposter killed _him_ first and now he's just trapped here forever.  


Blue finally grows tired of being laughed at – or perhaps he's concerned by the dry-heaving it's starting to cause – and once again places his free hand over Yellow's mouth. It doesn't quite stop him, but the flash of fear it causes is grounding, and after a few minutes he lapses into breathless giggles, then silence. He's stopped crying, at least, which is...something. And he is somewhat grateful that Blue stopped him from vomiting again. He doesn't have anything left to give.  


As if on cue, his stomach growls. Blue slowly removes his hand again, grumbling irritably. It moves away, apparently assuming that Yellow isn't going to try to escape or throw another fit. It's right. The only thing he has the strength for is blindly feeling his way back to the nest. He drags a few of the bigger scraps of fabric over himself and curls up against the wall. He tries to will himself to sleep but can't ignore the sound of Blue rustling around nearby, now returned to his former task. He presses his hands over his ears and hums softly to himself, trying to drown out the noise. It works, for the most part. It's enough to distract him a bit from his hunger, too.  


Some mindless electro-pop song he remembers hearing years ago at a transfer station comes to mind. Somehow he suddenly remembers every lyric with crystal clarity. He's so lost in trying to remember how the silly little dance that matched it went he doesn't feel Blue crawling up behind him. He jerks so hard he slams his elbow into the wall and yelps. His captor at least does him the _courtesy_ of apologizing – or so it seems, if his soft rumbles and soothing massage are anything to go by.  


Yellow can't relax into the hold, but he can try to ignore it in favor of returning to his song. It isn't easy with Blue so close behind and, it seems, trying to hum alongside him. Yellow covers his ears again to block out the harmony and tries to go to some semblance of a “happy place”.


End file.
